


Red Like Roses

by negickapologist (neganstonguething)



Series: Colors [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Character Death, Fast Pace, Long ass fic, M/M, Oneshot, i'm a cruel human being, vague sexual mentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 04:02:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11615454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neganstonguething/pseuds/negickapologist
Summary: This is Rick's final love story.My contribution to Day 4 - Death - of Regan Week on Tumblr





	Red Like Roses

It’s pouring out. Thunder rips through the dense precipitation, making children and adults alike cup their ears and recoil visibly. Still, the procession rolls along.

Rick is useless. Useless and pathetic and completely immobile, as if this guy wasn’t supposed to be his sworn enemy. As if there hadn’t been a time when he’d fantasized about the man’s demise. Now, here said demise is, and Rick is as broken and defeated as he was when his wife had died and both times his son had been shot.

It plays dramatically like a theater scene. Rick sits on his knees, sobbing relentlessly, while a few appointed ‘pallbearers’ carry Negan’s body, bundled up in a tarp, toward a hole dug just for him. Everyone’s clothes are soaked and heavy with rainwater. Rick isn’t the only one crying. Next to him, Carl cradles his sister, wiping tears from his one good eye.

The body is lowered into the ground still in the tarp, and that’s when Rick steps forward. He turns a puffy-eyed glare down at the covered body, clutching a shovel he picked up along the way.

“Fucking asshole.” He growls as he digs the shovel into the pile of wet dirt next to the hole and gets to work covering the body.

This is the story of how hatred gave way to trust, and how trust gave way to love, and how love was lost. A lesson in how fleeting one thing can be—how easy it is to take something for granted, and how in the blink of an eye, that something can disappear.

This is Rick Grimes’ final love story.

**\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---**

Rick honestly didn’t remember how it started. One day, he was angry at Negan for taking his freedom and the freedom of his people away, and the next, he was inviting Negan into his home for lemonade and conversations. He vaguely recalled trying to convince Negan to lighten his demands on the communities under his control, but he also knew that none of those attempts ever went over very well. Negan has always been more than a little impulsive, and very unpredictable. Sometimes, Rick would be met with a harsh and concise, “No way, José, Rick”, and other times, he’d be flat-out threatened.

And yet, he still let Negan in. He was probably still trying to win Negan’s favor enough to earn some of his supplies back, but it was difficult now to know for sure. Either way, conversations were had. Drinks were shared. They laughed together, joked together, and even shared stories about their wives with one another. Negan’s visits at some point went from stressful and irritating to mildly unnerving, and Rick started to feel like he was making ground.

And then one day, Negan invited Rick on a trip to Hilltop with him. He introduced Rick, even though the residents of the community were already familiar with him, solely to point out that they were now friends. Rick wasn’t sure exactly what irritated him about this, but it did. He spent the entirety of the visit looking as cold and hateful as he had when Negan had started visiting Alexandria for pickups all those months ago.

Not surprisingly, Negan eventually caught on, and he made a repetitive point to ask Rick what the deal was. In public, or in private, or frankly anywhere. And the more Negan asked, the more Rick felt as if he was being childish. Negan, the leader of the Sanctuary, easily the most childish and impulsive person Rick had ever met, was making him feel as if he was misbehaving.

So, he went off. When Negan tried to throw an arm around his shoulders and lead himself back to the truck for a swift return to Alexandria, Rick shoved him away.

Which launched a whole shitstorm of interesting reactions. The first was the expression on Negan’s face in response to Rick’s sudden display of defiance—a look that scaled somewhere between amusement and bewilderment and bordered dangerously on disbelief.

In an instant, Rick found his back slammed hard against the siding of one of the Hilltop’s buildings. The impact stole the air from Rick’s lungs, and he probably looked like a goddamn disaster with his eyes all bugged out and his mouth opening and closing like a beached fish. He expected the gesture to be followed up by a faceful of an angry Negan, but instead, his body ricocheted from the siding and he stumbled forward, bracing his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

Amidst his struggle, Negan just laughed. “You know what, Rick?” He barked, and even though he was smiling, Rick could tell he was upset—distraught, even. “I don’t fucking get you. One minute, you’re ice cold like you’re ready to sink the damn Titanic. The next, you’re telling me to come hang with you in your house, all fucking buddy-buddy. And then I take you here with me, a pleasant little escape from all the goddamn busywork in Alexandria, and you transform into the fucking Ice King again? It’s like a game of ‘He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not’, and my flower petal supply is dwindling fast as _shit_.” He narrowed his eyes just as Rick’s air supply returned. “You’re gonna need to make up your goddamn mind before I lose my patience.”

And then Rick lunged. His mind reveled in the sensation of leather bundling up in his clasped fingers, knocking Negan off his feet by the shoulders. A well-aimed fist to the face, and a sloppy left hook that followed. Negan’s dumbfounded stare upward and a gaping mouth surrounded by blood from both nostrils. Hair askew. Negan had been the very picture of the mess he’d always tried so hard to hide behind neatly-kept hair and an ever-present, casual smirk.

This was the Negan Rick had ached to see for so long. The beaten, shocked Negan who realized he’d get his one day. And now that Rick had gotten a taste of that sight of Negan, he actually felt…guilty.

Maybe it was the impact from all those conversations finally making landing, or maybe it was just the fact that Rick was actually perceiving Negan as a human being like this, rather than the monster everything that had happened had led Rick to view him as. Regardless of the reason, he’d hesitated. Hesitated, and gawked down at Negan with his eyebrows turned upward apologetically.

Not unexpectedly, Negan socked him back—slugged him so hard that it knocked him right off the larger man’s body and onto the ground. And then Negan stood up, spat blood onto the soil next to Rick, and bit out a harsh, “Don’t _ever_ fucking pull that shit on me again, Rick.”

**\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---**

The ride back to Alexandria was quiet. Too quiet. All Rick could hear was the roaring of the truck’s engine, the zoom of it speeding down the road, the slick noises of the leather of Negan’s jacket shuffling as he shifted around, and the swish of the driver’s hands along the steering wheel.

Rick was understandably uncomfortable. His right cheek ached from the punch Negan had delivered to it, and judging by the scowl plastered on Negan’s face, he wasn’t feeling to whippy, either. His nose was no longer bleeding, but a few purpling bruises on and around it made it clear that it didn’t feel any better. His cheek and nose and left eye looked tight and swollen and just uncomfortable in general.

Rick didn’t realize he had been staring until Negan turned a flat glare toward him. He held the stare for a moment, before Negan finally looked away. This was unexpected for Rick, who had been prepared to shoulder yet another nasty comment. Again, he almost felt guilty.

It was strange, the hatred Rick felt toward himself for said almost-guilt. He knew why he was feeling it—because Negan had been tormenting him and his people for months. And Rick was experiencing feelings of guilt because he realized that Negan was maybe a little hurt that he’d thought he’d been making a friend, all to have that friend suddenly react like Rick had today. On the one hand, maybe Rick could have handled things differently, but on the other, he shouldn’t have felt bad for the man at all.

A conversation came to mind there. One of the many discussions Rick and Negan had carried on in Alexandria—a particularly heated one. Rick had reminded Negan about what he had done to Glenn and Abraham, Spencer and his third-person hand in the death of Olivia. And Negan had wasted no time in telling him that he was no better, because he’d taken out dozens of Negan’s men in that outpost—the very excursion that had led Negan right to Alexandria. Negan had even gone so far as to suggest that attacking that outpost and the decision to do so had made it entirely Rick’s fault that Negan had found them, anyway.

Rick had checked him on it and pointed out that he had decided to attack back, and to demand half of Alexandria’s supply, which negated any and all innocence Negan claimed to possess. But he had also conceded that his decision to go after those forty or so sleeping people had been a severely misguided one. He’d even gone so far as to admit that apologizing wouldn’t bring them back, but that he felt wrong for having attacked them. Even explaining that he thought they were a threat to Hilltop and other communities didn’t feel good enough, so Rick had kept that little detail to himself.

But the point was, Rick did feel bad for lashing out, and now that he sat and pooled all the mutual ground he and Negan had reached together, he started to realize that getting along with this guy wasn’t totally impossible, and that it was entirely feasible that he and Negan could one day get along, and maybe even without the Sanctuary demanding things from everyone else.

So when the truck finally came to a stop at the towering Alexandria gate and Negan climbed out and started sidling his way up to greet Rick’s people, Rick reached out and caught his upper arm, effectively stopping him in his tracks. Negan didn’t turn around to regard Rick right away, which made this whole encounter that much more unnerving.

“I’m sorry,” Negan started, his gaze still focused ahead and his broad, leather-covered back still all Rick could see, “but if you’re about to take another swing at me, Rick, I’m gonna fucking lose it.”

Rick shook his head. “I shouldn’t have hit you.”

For a moment, Negan went rigid, as if his own body wasn’t sure what to do. It seemed almost to Rick as if he’d even stopped breathing. But after several seconds of frightening stillness, Negan turned and brought those dark, questioning eyes to meet Rick’s.

“No,” Negan answered, a relaxed smile popping up on his face, “you shouldn’t have. Is this the part where you tell me what the fuck possessed you to tear into me like that?”

“Yeah, it is.” Rick replied. “But…maybe over some lemonade. My feet are killin’ me.” He would have been the first to admit that he was, perhaps a bit prematurely, trying to lighten the mood. But this kind of behavior was Negan’s go-to thing anyway, so Rick figured it’d work.

And it did. The smile on Negan’s lips widened as the gate started screeching its way open. He cocked his head, slid back in close, and curled his arm around Rick’s shoulders. It almost felt as if the limb belonged there.

“That’s a damn fucking fine start, Rick.”

At this point, no one in Alexandria was ever surprised to see Negan with an arm wrapped around Rick’s shoulders or a hand on the small of his back, guiding him along. Everyone regarded Rick flatly, until he made it to his home, where Michonne and Tara looked up at him from playing with Judith to welcome him back with a warm smile. It was rare to see Michonne doing anything other than hunting nowadays, so Rick beamed right back at her, Negan’s presence momentarily forgotten even though its weight hovered around his shoulders like a blanket.

“How was Hilltop?” Michonne asked, her focus on him now, too. The two of them had been particularly close ever since they’d found one another after their escape from the prison. At one point, they had attempted a relationship, but it eventually just felt more natural for the two to be friends. Siblings, more like. Rick trusted Michonne with _everything_ , and he had reason to believe her faith in him was the same.

“It was alright.” Rick answered as he moved toward the kitchen, breaking free from Negan’s grip on him to get started on the lemonade he’d promised the man. “Everyone’s doin’ good. I saw a lot of smiles today. Maggie and Enid said ‘hi’.”

Michonne brushed all that off and followed Rick into the kitchen. Tara was once more absorbed in little Judith to the point that Rick felt no guilt leaving her in there with Negan, who normally made her and plenty of other Alexandrians uncomfortable.

“What happened to your face?” Michonne questioned next to Rick, her voice low. “I’m not gonna say I’m crazy about the fact that Negan’s all beaten up, too. Did you two get into a fight? What did he do?”

Michonne was speaking too quickly for Rick to respond, so he held a hand up to stop her, chuckling to himself. “It was my fault. I jumped the gun, but it’s okay, now.”

Michonne frowned, her intense stare growing more piercing by the second. “Looks to me like he jumped the gun and you put _him_ in his place.”

It was a blunt humor that Rick and Michonne often shared in more private moments. It drew a breathy laugh from Rick. “We can go with that if it makes you feel better.”

Michonne laughed to herself, crossing her arms over her chest. Rick always admired the way she looked so statuesque and beautiful in just about every pose she made. Today was no different. “I just want to know why he hit you, or why you hit him, or whatever.”

As Rick opened up to her about Negan’s display at the Hilltop, it started to make sense to him why he had gotten so upset when Negan had started flaunting him around at Hilltop. This was why he liked talking to Michonne so much—she just had this way about her. She didn’t even need to open her mouth. She just always listened, let Rick voice his feelings, and he almost always figured it out just by being able to get it out into the open.

Rick kind of understood why, too. Not a lot of people really gave him the chance to voice his frustrations. He was Alexandria’s leader—someone people came to for help. A voice of reason. Most people forgot that even a leader had things they needed to vent about. Michonne viewed Rick as an equal. She _always_ listened, and maybe that was a big part of why rick seemed to see her in a glow when he looked at her.

Either way, by the time he had the lemonade made and his grievances voiced, he hugged Michonne tight, thanked her for hearing him out, and left back into the living room with a feeling of closure and less anxiety over what he was going to tell Negan.

Michonne made quick work of redirecting Tara and Judith up the stairs, and as Rick offered Negan some lemonade and took a seat next to him, the larger man cleared his throat, silently encouraging Rick to start explaining. In a way, Rick felt like a scolded child, but he also felt as if Negan was entitled to a little elaboration.

So, after closing his eyes, he let out a sigh and opened his mouth. “I felt like you were usin’ me as an example.”

“I was.” Negan deadpanned. “You and I have been getting along pretty fucking swimmingly over the past several months. I wanted them—the people at Hilltop—to see that.” He shrugged. “It’s not impossible—we don’t have to be enemies.”

Rick released another sigh, brushing his fingers through his hair. “For me, it was like you were tryin’ to tell them I was on your side instead of theirs.” His expression darkened as he regarded Negan as seriously as he could manage. “Let me make this perfectly clear, Negan: I’m on their side. Not yours. Not until you’re done takin’ from my people, or theirs, or from any other people.”

Negan didn’t respond. Rick wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but so far, he wasn’t on the receiving end of a negative reaction, which was always nice. But there would forever be some level of anxiety when Negan didn’t react immediately. It was an understandable fear, considering how unpredictable Negan was. Either way, Rick spoke again.

“But I shouldn’t have hit you. I think you’re a decent guy, but I also think your sense of justice, your ‘new world order’, is _bullshit_.”

Negan was still silent, seemingly in contemplation, but at least he didn’t look as if he was going to react with a violent outburst. Still, Rick braced for a response.

“Thanks for being straightforward about it.” Negan said amidst a long exhale. “And while I may disagree with you, I’d like to keep this beautiful fucking friendship growing between us. What do you say?”

**\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---**

In reality, Rick hadn’t said anything after that. But Negan must have been satisfied with his lack of an argument, because he took that with a grain of salt and their budding ‘friendship’ went on as if nothing had happened.

Or well, on the outside. Rick didn’t know what Negan was thinking, but he personally spent a lot of time dwelling on the words. Negan had allowed Rick to be honest with his feelings without fear of retaliation, but he had also made a point to say that he and Rick were still in disagreement about what was still taking place between the Sanctuary and the other communities.

Rick spent a lot of his alone time mentally reassuring himself that the fact that Negan had let him voice his grievance had to mean something. He wasn’t certain if they were making ground on Alexandria being free again or not, but he also felt he had allotted himself some room to hope.

On top of that, how long had Negan bragged about liking Rick? How long had he praised the man’s intelligence and perception and _fire_ to the Alexandrians and the Saviors alike? Maybe Negan had sought some level of personal victory in calling Rick a friend—more than just that of being able to befriend those he was controlling. Hell, maybe he had wanted to be Rick’s buddy from the beginning.

Unbeknownst to Rick, this train of thought had him unconsciously softening to Negan. His greetings were less harsh, and when Negan wasn’t arriving to collect, Rick was lighthearted and pleasant with the guy. They talked—about anything—joked, walked around together, and one day, Negan even invited Rick to the Sanctuary.

“I feel like we’re at that point in our relationship,” Negan said like it’d been nothing, “and also, you’d be fucking bonkers to try anything by yourself on my own turf.”

Not that Rick actually had anything planned. That thought scared him. It meant that he and Negan were on such pleasant terms that he hadn’t even partially thought about turning on him when given the chance. It meant that he was starting to enjoy being around Negan. That he didn’t want to harm him. That he was curious to know the layout of the Sanctuary just for the hell of it. For simple curiosity, and nothing more. It meant he regarded Negan quite highly.

And the worst part was that Negan and his people were still controlling all the nearby communities.

Rick felt a harsh pang of self-loathing at that thought, because there had been a point in time when he had wanted nothing more than to see Negan dead, and a point when the only way he could picture actually enjoying the guy’s presence would be when he wasn’t paying him with supplies. But up until now, there had never been a point when he would have enjoyed being around Negan regardless of how the Sanctuary was treating Alexandria.

He didn’t say it to Negan, but Rick made a mental note not to let this newfound enjoyment of the Sanctuary leader blur the lines between the right thing to do and the easy one—that his family back at Alexandria came first, no matter what. It wasn’t a difficult call to make, but Rick did so regardless.

The Sanctuary was _huge_. A sprawling factory ground, it was heavily populated, from people keeping fenced walkers at bay to others working hard beyond the fence. Rick had known Negan was telling the truth when he’d said he had plenty of people, but seeing it in his face like this was sobering. Not that he had any plans to turn on Negan right now, but he was now very aware of what he was dealing with.

He wondered, as they walked about the outside of the towering building, if part of Negan’s intent on bringing him here was to show him just that fact, to avoid the risk of Rick doing anything unsavory. At the time, Rick had no plans to do so. He had at one point, but somewhere along the line, the decision to convince Negan to ease his demands and work _together_ with Alexandria and everyone else had taken precedence. It made sense—more sense, even—to utilize such a massive group of people instead of  killing their leader and risking upsetting them and starting a war.

And lately, Rick was starting to feel like Negan wasn’t as terrible as the image he had painted of himself had made him out to be. Their talks as of late had grown more personal, and when Negan talked about his late wife on many occasions or brought up his journey from losing her to starting his own community, his voice held a deep softness so unlike that malicious sarcasm he sported when trying to get a point across. It made Rick feel trusted, and before he’d know what he was doing, he’d told Negan his own story, from start to finish, the reiteration of his wife’s death and Carl’s shooting incidents included. Negan learned about Shane and the Governor and Terminus. Regardless of who Rick was coming clean to, it felt good to come out with it at all.

Negan showed Rick everything, from the storage halls to the harem, to his own room. After what was probably miles of touring, Rick found himself sitting on an armchair across a coffee table from a couch in Negan’s room. He kicked his feet up like he was at home, regarding Rick from over his black boots.

“So,” he started, “what do you think?”

Rick cocked an eyebrow, not exactly sure how to respond. At this point in time, the look of a place didn’t really matter to him. A home had long-since stopped having an aesthetic requirement. “It’s…big?”

“Fuck yeah, it is.” Negan laughed. “And there’s plenty of room here for you if you ever need a place to crash.”

Negan must have seen the look of mild shock on Rick’s face, because he quickly added, “I mean, for a day or two, since you got that badass home in Alexandria.”

Rick laughed. “Thanks, Negan.” He didn’t have the heart to extend the same offer. At least, not yet. Not until Negan’s system was a little more agreeable to his own.

But, as if reading Rick’s mind, Negan suddenly spoke up, with words Rick had been desperately hoping for but never actually expected to hear.

“Your pantry is bare as fuck.” He started, expression calm, as if he had been giving this speech a lot of thought. “You can’t put food in your own mouths, let alone ours. Consider yourself on reprieve. If you’re dead, you’re doing a grand total of fuck-all for me. But I expect you to grow a garden or double your runs or _something_ to fix the problem.”

Rick felt his heart leap. It wasn’t anything solid, but it was the most relief anyone had gotten from Negan thus far. It was a chance at Rick feeding his people, his children, and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling at that, his body slumping into the chair as some weight floated off his shoulders.

“Negan…thank you.”

**\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---**

From then, Rick didn’t expect things to take the turn that they did. He and Negan grew even closer, and when Negan visited, they were inseparable. It was more than just talks, now. They planned runs for Alexandria to make, and lined out blueprints for a garden. Negan spent some days clear until night over, and Rick actually found himself contemplating offering to let Negan stay until morning.

All too quickly, contemplating gave way to actually _doing_ so. And doing so led to something Rick could have never predicted.

One night, they’d stayed up pretty late discussing a run that the two men themselves were going to go on. They’d talked about old shops along the way, good hunting spots, and camping locations. Before either of them had known what was happening, it was well into the night. Later than they had ever stayed up together. Late enough that Rick was visibly exhausted and his judgment perhaps a little clouded. Late enough that he offered to let Negan and his Saviors spend the night in Alexandria.

And from there, there relationship crossed a threshold he didn’t even realize it could. Negan teased and joked about growing on him, and then when Rick moved to fix himself a glass of water, Negan followed him into the kitchen. Suggested Rick wasn’t able to resist his charm. That maybe a friendship wasn’t the only thing between them.

Perhaps it had been a joke. Negan was one hell of a tease, so it wouldn’t have been completely unfounded for him to be seeing what kind of reaction he could get out of Rick with those words alone. But he had been so close to Rick at that point, his voice so deep and husky, body so warm. Rick didn’t recall ever being attracted to Negan until then, but he was sure feeling it. His stomach was doing backflips, eyes wide and trained on Negan’s lips.

And then he suggested something crazy. His lips curled into a smirk to match Negan’s, and he dragged his gaze up to meet the larger man’s.

“Maybe.” He lilted, as a hand snaked out so that he could wrap his fingers around the bottom of Negan’s jacket. “You’re talkin’ like we’re gonna find out.”

And find out, they did. Rick soon found his back against the counter, Negan’s body flush against his front, a hand on the side of his face, and their mouths wide open against once another in a hungry, messy kiss.

Funny, how Rick hadn’t seen this coming, and yet it felt as if it had been months in waiting. He made no complaint as Negan hefted him up onto the counter and slotted himself in between his legs. A breathy sigh escaped him when he felt the warm squeeze of Negan’s hands on either of his thighs while their mouths moved together.

The next thing Rick knew, he and Negan were in his bed, naked, with Negan fucking him slowly, roughly, right into the mattress. They were a mess of tangling arms, lips and teeth and tongues on necks and jaws and earlobes. Rick’s sweaty body arched needily up into Negan’s chest when a particularly rough thrust sent shocks of pleasure rippling through what felt like every nerve ending in his body. He panted, moaned, gave every ounce of himself up to Negan right there, and Negan didn’t disappoint. The end result was a Rick that was so exhausted and overstimulated that he could barely stay awake.

But he did notice how Negan took the time to clean him up, gently wiping sweat and sticky release from his chest with a wet washcloth, and how he proceeded to curl up next to him in the bed.

**\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---**

And it was all downhill from there. Rick and Negan went on that run they spent all night planning, driving in an RV with plenty of room for all the supplies they hoped they’d come across, and when they weren’t driving or scavenging, they were wrapped up in one another. Negan usually instigated it, and Rick couldn’t have refused if he’d tried. By the end of their first night traveling, Rick’s neck and jaw were painted with pinks and purples left from hickeys Negan was all too keen on providing him, and Negan’s skin glowed from welts and bruises left from the likely painful grip Rick had on him while being fucked into a tree or a table or RV mattress.

The second day, they hit the jackpot. Rick and Negan emerged from a store with grocery carts filled to the brim with cans and bottled water and other nonperishables. They celebrated with a heated makeout session, followed by the shoveling of canned fruit and beans into their mouths, and even a little bit of alcohol.

When they returned to Alexandria, it was to a long shower together, with Rick’s back against the shower wall and Negan’s body rocking into him, awkwardly promising that they weren’t going to fall and break a limb. Afterward, they washed up and clambered out of the water.

Rick made no effort keeping his physical relationship with Negan a secret. Someone was bound to find out, and when Michonne and Carl inevitably did, they were strangely at peace with it. Michonne wore a look of knowing, wise beyond her years, and Carl bitterly regarded Negan, but addressed his father with confusion at worst. Rick suspected that Michonne may have talked to him about it, but had yet to ask.

Regardless, they progressed just as planned. Supplies flowed back in, and when the pantry shelves started to look decent again, Rick anticipated to hear from Negan about providing.

But he never brought it up. Days passed, and then weeks, and with Negan visiting just for the hell of it on a pretty regular basis now, it surprised Rick. He resided in perpetual fear that he would have to open his armory and pantry to the Saviors yet again, but after two months of Negan saying nothing, Rick couldn’t contain himself anymore.

It was after taking a look at the fully constructed garden and the work the Alexandrians were doing on it that Rick finally spoke up. He confronted Negan in the middle of the street, on the way back to his house.

“What’s goin’ on?” He questioned, with zero effort to conceal the nervousness in his body language. “What’s the catch?”

“Uhh….” Negan frowned deeply as he leaned back and away from Rick just slightly. “What the fuck are you going on about?”

“The supplies.” Rick bit out. “The pantry, the armory. We got supplies now, and we’re growin’ a garden. Why aren’t you bringin’ your men in here by the dozens to take them all away?”

By now, it was obvious they were being watched. Rick could feel eyes on them everywhere, and across the street, he could see Michonne, Carl, and Gabriel gawking. He didn’t care. They had every right to hear this, too.

“ _Really?_ ” Negan questioned, looking more amused than anything. “I give you a break, and _this_ is the way you react to it?”

Rick narrowed his eyes. “Don’t act like I don’t have a right to, Negan.” Nevermind how kissable those lips looked, or how strangely attractive that look of amusement and perplexity was on him. Rick had a question to ask first. “Our lives have been in your people’s hands for months. I’m startin’ to wonder if there was some conversation I accidentally tuned out or some hint I’m not catchin’, because you’re not pushin’ to collect and I don’t know if I’m gonna wake up to one of my people dead for it.”

That was when Negan’s confusion gave way to anger. The smile washed away like rain on wet paint, dribbling the lines of his mouth down into a scowl and angling his eyebrows downward.

“No catch, Rick. Just haven’t been collecting. And for it, your people aren’t fucking suffering.” His eyes fell into a half-lidded stare as he dragged his tongue across his teeth in thought. “Y’know, what would you have done if I’d have simply forgotten? What if I just decided to up and start picking up your shit again, a la ‘ _oh shit, I forgot!’_ , all because you decided to accuse me of having something up my fucking sleeve?”

“That’s not what I meant.” Rick snarled.

“Oh?” Negan retorted icily, moving in on Rick like a bullet on its prey. “You wanna tell me what ‘what’s the catch?’ fucking means then, Rick?”

“It means I don’t know what to expect.” Rick snapped, holding his ground. “No offense, Negan, but you don’t exactly have the most straightforward way of thinkin’.”

“Well,” Negan sighed, though the tension between the two men didn’t fade, “maybe it was because I wanted to show you that I respected what you’ve been doing here, with me. You’ve fucking bent over backwards for me, coming up with routes to send your people on and giving me someone to vent to. Maybe I just decided to make it up to you.”

Those words rendered Rick utterly speechless. He gaped at Negan, surprised by the words, and also the fact that Negan had so willingly said it in front of everyone else. And when Negan noticed this fact too, he wheeled around and rounded on everyone else.

“Yeah, you heard me right, assholes.” He pointed to Rick, whose shoulders were now slumped in shame. “This guy’s effectively cleaned up his and everyone else’s mess for you. Hopefully, he’ll keep doing so.” Rick watched him turn back to face him once more. “Now, what do I get for that?”

He knew the drill. He’d been all too used to it before he’d started trying to cooperate with Negan. Momentarily, Rick gritted his teeth, before he muttered a feeble, “Thank you, Negan.”

And then in a flash, Negan’s expression was back to normal. That same self-satisfied grin he always wore when he was getting his way. He watched Rick for a second, and then shrugged and paced back a foot or two. “You’re welcome.”

Rick felt humiliated, but humbled at the same time. Negan hadn’t confirmed that he wasn’t planning on taking from Alexandria again in the future, but he also hadn’t said he was. That gave Rick hope, and made him feel less guilty about his growing feelings for Negan.

Which were indeed growing, and had grown significantly in the course of the last conversation. Negan hadn’t said outright, but he cared about Rick, and he might have even cared about the rest of his people. Enough, at least, to decide to put a halt on collections for now. And he appreciated what Rick was doing.

Rick had been attracted to him ever since that first kiss, but this was different. This was a pressure in his chest, swelling and overflowing into the rest of his body. This was romantic interest, and it wasn’t the first time Rick had felt this way before. He knew what it had meant. He’d felt it with Lori. He was starting to love Negan, and he was falling fast.

He didn’t have the heart to try and talk about things today. Negan didn’t seem irritated anymore, but Rick knew he had a lot of thinking to do even if he was. Rick knew why he’d asked Negan the question he had out there, and he knew full well that it wasn’t uncalled-for. But Negan just had this way about his words. Inexplicably, he had made Rick feel bad for his words or actions twice now. And Rick didn’t feel like this was going to be the end of that little pattern.

He didn’t care to leave Negan’s side long enough to put an end to it.

And he didn’t. Just like before, the two stayed diligently by one another’s sides. Rick eventually started making visits to the Sanctuary, and even helping out around there. The Alexandrians either didn’t care or chose to keep their mouths shut about the arrangement, and Rick understood why. It helped that they weren’t getting their things taken away on a weekly basis anymore. When had been the last time Negan had come to collect?

And Alexandria wasn’t the only community benefiting from this new…whatever it was between Rick and Negan. A couple visits to the Hilltop and Kingdom told Rick that Negan had lightened his sentence on everyone. He still collected from others, but he was mindful about how much it left them, and he kept Saviors perched at the gates to help protect from walkers, as he had promised all that time ago.

Rick felt flattered to see Negan trying so hard. He was still a high-grade jerk sandwich to everyone, but it came more in his sarcasm than his actions now. It seemed to Rick as if he really was trying to appeal to him.

Soon, Rick found himself wanting to help. Maybe he could work something out that could benefit everyone. Maybe Negan could get the supplies he and the Sanctuary needed, while everyone else thrived without having to worry about giving up half of everything they owned in the process. It wasn’t impossible, and Rick knew that for a fact, because it hadn’t been impossible for him to get on a friendly basis with Negan.

So, he hatched a plan. And this time, it wasn’t Negan he came to first about it. On one rainy evening, Rick found himself, Carl, Michonne, and Judith in the living room. The first time they’d all been gathered together for more than a few minutes since Rick and Negan had started their physical relationship. It was a little awkward at first, but Carl was happy to break the ice.

“So what’s the deal between you and Negan, anyway?” He asked outright, that same look of confusion and shock on his face as before.

Rick shook his head. “To tell you the truth, I don’t even know for sure.” Just thinking about what things could be between himself and Negan brought waves of nervousness rolling up from his stomach into his chest. He’d tried not to give it too much thought lately for this very reason.

“How could you not know?” Carl cocked his head, that Grimes scrutiny coming out heavy now. “You two have been all over each other for a while, now.”

“Do you two have some sort of agreement?” Michonne added. “Y’know, you….do things for him, and he gives us a free pass from collections?”

“No.” Rick replied, perhaps all-too-quickly. “It’s nothin’ like that. What’s goin’ on between us…it just _happened_ , and I’m not even sure it’s a thing to him.” He cleared his throat, glared down at the paper, and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “It is to me.”

The admission was so much more than just a verbal realization to Rick. It was honesty—proof that he wanted Carl and Michonne on his side and that whatever was happening with himself and Negan wasn’t going to end up a detriment to his people. He wanted to be open with them about it because their opinions on it mattered, and they had a right to know everything that was going on.

There was a silence, before Michonne finally spoke up. “…You want this?”

“But what about us?” Carl quickly joined in.

“It’s not gonna affect us.” Rick responded. “And if it does, I’m not gonna be involved with him. But so far, I don’t think that’s a problem. That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you guys about.” When he received twin nods from both Michonne and Carl (and even a little smile from Judith, who was busy on the floor playing with a toy), he continued. “He’s been goin’ easy on Hilltop and other places, too. Hasn’t stopped takin’, but he looks at how much they have before he decides how much he’s gonna take.”

Michonne looked shocked by that, but Carl looked less like he believed it. Still, Rick kept talking.

“He’s tryin’ real hard to make this all right somehow, and I get it. He’s been goin’ so long just takin’, that he doesn’t know what he’s gonna do about feedin’ his own people if he stops altogether. He hasn’t said this to me—it’s just obvious. But maybe we can make this work out for all of us.” He smiled at Michonne, who looked genuinely interested. “The Hilltop and Kingdom grow things. We go on runs, and we have people here who can build things. The Sanctuary has surplus. I’m thinkin’ about bringin’ up a trade agreement with him.”

“…Whoa.” Carl even sounded amazed at this point.

“Rick…” Michonne frowned. “I think this is a good idea, but I hope you understand it doesn’t fix the fact that he killed people. People we loved. And he enjoyed it.”

“I know.” Rick sighed. “That’s never gonna go away, but he has to live with it too. And we have to remember that we killed an entire outpost of his men.”

“We thought they were dangerous.” Carl grunted.

“They were.” Rick agreed. “But they were asleep, and we had no idea who they were at the time. I’m not sayin’ what Negan did was right, and he’s made it worse by everything he’s done, but we can’t pretend we’re the good guys, either.”

Both Michonne and Carl seemed to surrender there.

“Look,” Rick added, “I’m not askin’ you guys to be friends with him. I just…the Sanctuary is _enormous_. We don’t stand a chance against Negan and his men. It’s better to find some way to make peace with them than leave things how they are. In the end, we all survive.”

Michonne bit her lip, glancing down at her lap, before she nodded and turned a sincere smile up to Rick. “…You’re right. And hey, maybe this thing with you and him will work out too. We all deserve a break at this point.”

“Yeah.” Rick laughed. “We do.”

Even though Rick knew his feelings for Negan were strong, he was well aware of the fact that his family came first. Michonne, Carl, Judith…everyone at Alexandria…they were counting on him. He was going to have to put them before Negan, and he knew full well that he could if need be. He had no doubt of that in his mind.

Hell, even the next day, with Negan fucking him against his bedroom wall, he knew it. No amount of panting or clinging or languid, heated kissing could ever dominate the strength that was a family who had been through the absolute worst together. And Rick had a feeling Negan knew that, too. That was probably why the man continued to keep a safe emotional distance between them. Why their relationship stayed physical and any emotional romance remained a line that Negan wasn’t yet ready to cross.

Later that evening, Michonne made the suggestion that Rick keep his relationship with Negan under wraps for now. People were already talking about it, but until Rick brought up his trade idea with the other man, it probably wasn’t a good idea for him to go in and confess that he and Negan had been screwing around for a while now. For many of them, it was going to be a hard pill to swallow even with Negan cooperating with them on things. Rosita, with all her stubborn strength, wasn’t going to take it well regardless of when Rick came clean about it. Understandably, she and Sasha would remember Abraham the most strongly. Tara, who admired Rick’s determination for Alexandria to stay afloat, would likely be disappointed that Rick was suggesting they work with the killer of their friends. And Maggie…Rick considered her such a strong part of his family that he genuinely feared what telling her might do.

When he thought about Maggie, he genuinely contemplated cutting off what was going on between himself and Negan. She loved Glenn so much, and losing him had been incredibly difficult for her. Thinking about what telling her about his feelings for Negan would do to her, how damaging it would be, far outweighed anything he had formed with Negan thus far. His feelings for Negan were strong, and growing stronger, but he and Maggie had been through everything together.

At the same time, though, it felt wrong keeping it from her. Even if he stopped sleeping around with Negan, Rick knew he wouldn’t have the heart to not tell Maggie what had been happening. She had every right to know that someone she trusted with everything had been in a physical relationship with the one who had murdered her husband. No matter what happened between Rick and Negan…it wasn’t fair to keep that from her.

In the end, he decided to confront her about it. The next time Negan showed up, Rick requested that they visit Hilltop together, and he did so before any amount of kissing or fucking or intimacy could happen. Negan was visibly confused and perhaps a little miffed, but he agreed nonetheless, and the two set out for Hilltop that day.

Upon arrival, Negan sought out Gregory and Rick went looking for Maggie. He found her in a room she claimed she had just been given, at Jesus’ persuasion, by Gregory, in Barrington house. She was plenty far along in her pregnancy now, showing visibly, and when Rick counted the months it’d been since he’d learned of her pregnancy, he realized that she could likely be due any day now. That was probably why Jesus had convinced Gregory to give her a safer place to stay than a trailer.

She looked just as powerful and radiant as ever, even with the exhaustion of her pregnancy weighing down on her. Before Rick let the discussion grow serious, he listened and laughed warmly with her while she told him how her growing baby’s kicking often kept her awake at night, and how she and Sasha and Enid often spent hours laughing as her belly seemed to jump abruptly when the baby was moving around particularly aggressively. Despite all the complaints of heartburn and back pain and exhaustion, Maggie seemed proud of everything going on.

She seemed happy, which made Rick feel even more guilty for what he was about to tell her.

But eventually, he caved and cleared his throat.

“I’m so happy for you, Maggie. You’re doin’ so well over here. Hilltop really seems to like you. But there’s somethin’ I have to tell you.”

Maggie, as if able to sense the very energy emanating from Rick, grew serious almost instantaneously. A frown worked its way onto her features, and seeing her like that after all the smiling he’d just witnessed her doing…it broke Rick’s heart.

“What’s goin’ on, Rick?” She questioned, infinitely more serious. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s great actually.” Rick admitted with a smile. “It’s just, you should know this. You of all people have a right to know.”

Maggie’s frown deepened. “…Alright, okay. I’m all ears.”

Rick, even with as close to coming clean as he was right now, didn’t know where to start. Anywhere he thought of doing so, it didn’t feel as if it would come out right. No matter what, Maggie wasn’t going to receive this news well, and Rick wasn’t going to blame her.

Despite that, he tried his best and finally settled on a starting point. “…You noticed how Negan’s takin’ less lately, right?”

“Of course I have.” Maggie answered almost immediately. “It’s hard not to. I was kinda wonderin’ what the deal was with that, but wasn’t about to ask and spark somethin’ in him makin’ him start it up all over again. Why?”

“Well,” Rick’s hand found the back of his head, scrubbing at the hair on the nape of his neck, “I know why he’s doin’ it, and I think it’s got somethin’ to do with me.”

“With you?” Maggie questioned. “Did you talk to him, Rick? What could you have possibly said to change that psychopath’s mind?”

Rick didn’t realize it until he was about to speak up, but his hands were suddenly wringing tightly together. “It’s…not somethin’ I said. It’s somethin’ I did…somethin’ I’m doin’.”

When Maggie didn’t immediately respond, Rick felt a fresh wave of dread crash upon his already fragile demeanor. He wasn’t ready to tell her the truth—hadn’t been, and probably wouldn’t ever be. But he knew he owed it to her. So he forced himself to keep going.

“I—I don’t know how it happened. But I’ve been sleepin’ with him, Maggie.”

The expression on Maggie’s face didn’t change immediately, which was somehow more unnerving than if it had contorted in fury or something a little more vivid than now. It seemed like she was trying to process the words. Like just the simple disbelief of it all made it impossible for the fact to process in her mind. Rick really wouldn’t have blamed her.

“It’s just, one day—”

Maggie raised a hand to silence him, and he obeyed. She closed her eyes and then opened them again, turning her gaze up to Rick to regard him. She was calm, and for a moment, Rick wondered if he hadn’t just told her he’d been having sex with the man who had murdered her husband. That he hadn’t just betrayed her trust in the worst way possible.

“You’re crazy.” She said, her words straightforward and somehow not utterly wounded. “You’re bein’ serious right now, Rick?”

Rick swallowed, and then nodded slowly.

“How in the hell were you around him enough to be interested in him that way?”

Rick shook his head. “I was tryin’ to level with him.”

“By screwin’ him?” Maggie understandably looked as if she couldn’t believe the answer Rick had just given her.

“No, not like that.” Rick sighed. “I started bringin’ him to my house so we could talk things out—seein’ if I could get onto his good side so maybe I could figure out why he did things the way he did. We started talkin’ more, and somewhere along the line, he started acting like a decent guy.”

“Rick.” There it was. That sharp, scolding look from Maggie. “This guy you’re callin’ decent right now killed my husband. Killed Abraham. Killed more people. Is probably gonna keep killin’ people. He’s takin’ from everyone. Doesn’t matter if he’s not takin’ as much. He’s still takin’.”

Rick shook his head. “He’s not takin’ from Alexandria anymore.”

Shock returned to Maggie’s expression, and Rick just nodded, as if to confirm that, yes, what he’d just said to her was true.

“I asked him about it, and he said that because I’ve been workin’ on the garden and plannin’ runs and actually talkin’ to him, Alexandria’s in the clear right now. He didn’t say it’d be forever, but he’s changin’, Maggie.”

Maggie sighed. Clearly, she wasn’t buying this as well as Rick had been. “I think you’re seein’ this whole thing through rose-colored glasses, Rick. You get one good thing out of him and then you start wonderin’ if he’s really as bad as he was on day one. And maybe he is changin’, but that doesn’t get rid of all the stuff that’s happened before.”

“I promise I haven’t forgotten what he did to Glenn and Abraham, Maggie.” Rick reassured, his voice earnest and desperate, pleading for her to understand that he would never side with Negan over his own family. “I’ll never forget that, and I’ll never let him forget it. But sometimes, when we get to talkin’, he says things that make sense. Things about his life before the world ended, and about his morals and beliefs on things. He truly believes that this is the only way to make the world work right.”

“Do you?” Maggie questioned.

“No.” Rick shook his head. “I never will, and I told him that. I don’t agree with what he did. But I also don’t agree with what _we_ did. He’s never gonna be right for takin’ from everyone like he’s doin’ right now, but he’s right when he tells me that us goin’ and searchin’ out one of his outposts without even knowin’ shit about him and killin’ all those people who hadn’t done anything to us was wrong. Just like he has to live with what he did to our people, we have to live with what we did to his. We can’t forget that.”

Maggie took a second to process those words, before she leaned back, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Her eyes fell shut and Rick watched her jaw clench.

“…You’re fallin’ for him.”

Rick didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He knew how incredibly right she was about that, and trying to argue was pointless. He’d already reached this mental consensus with himself before, after all. So instead, he turned his gaze down to the floor and nodded his head.

“Are you serious?” Maggie suddenly questioned. Rick didn’t look up. He already knew full well that she was gawking incredulously at him. If there was a time she was going to get angry, it was probably going to be right now. “Rick—this is _Negan_. He _smashed my husband’s head in_. And then he _laughed._ How do you expect me to react to this?”

Rick shook his head. “I don’t know. I didn’t come here expectin’ a reaction. I just felt like you needed to know. I’m not keepin’ this a secret from anyone.”

When he looked up once more, he was met with a sharp glare. “I kinda wish you would have.” She bit out. “Look, I don’t think you’re sidin’ with Negan on anything, but you gotta understand…you know who he is to me, Rick.”

“I do.” Rick responded. “I do, Maggie, and that’s why I needed to tell you. I can never change what he did. But I have an idea for how to work on stoppin’ him from doin’ anything else.”

“What?” Maggie bit back. “You plannin’ on getting’ married?”

“…Maggie…”

“…I know.” Maggie sighed and carded her fingers through her hair, which she’d been keeping short. “I’m sorry, Rick. It’s just…hard to take in.”

“I’ll bet.” Rick offered a small smile her way. He wanted her to know he was trying hard to be understanding about the whole thing. He’d never intended for this to happen, but there was no going back now. “But you guys come first. If Negan hasn’t already figured that out, he’s gonna soon enough.”

With his confession out into the air, Rick made quick work of explaining to Maggie that with Negan’s new open-mindedness regarding him, there was a chance he could start up some sort of trade agreement with him. That if they were going to give Negan their things, they could likely offer up more if he’d be willing to trade something in return. That they all had things to offer to one another. That they didn’t have to have one big community in control for everything to work out. If there was a time for Negan to process such a possibility, it would be now.

And much like he’d told Michonne and Carl, Rick also informed Maggie that an agreement with Negan would never have to go hand-in-hand with a friendship with him. They were just being civil, and he just longed for a chance to make a life for everyone.

“I’m just tired.” He admitted, leaning back into one of the fancy Barrington House armchairs. “I’m ready to settle down. We’ve been at this for so damned long. At Alexandria, I was startin’ to grow accustomed to a chance at a peaceful life. And if there’s a possibility we can make that happen, I’m gonna jump on it. This has got nothin’ to do with my relationship with Negan.”

“It’s got a _lot_ to do with it, Rick.” Maggie reminded him. “What happens if whatever this is between you two stops? Does the agreement go away?”

Rick shook his head. “I refuse to let it be that way. I’ve got a hunch that Negan won’t consider us and this agreement the same thing, _provided_ he goes for it. But I plan on makin’ it clear that what goes on between us has nothin’ to do with the diplomatic relations everywhere else.” He shot Maggie a very pointed stare. “I came here to tell you what was goin’ on, and to bring up the agreement I wanted to work out with him, but I didn’t bring them up at the same time because they were conditional to one another. You guys come first. I’m beggin’ you not to forget that.”

Maggie sighed, closing her eyes yet again. “…I know, Rick. And even if this is goin’ on, I trust you. You have a right to be with whoever you want to be with, and you seem to know that I’m not gonna like it. But…maybe you’re onto somethin’, here. I’m not gonna try and stop whatever it is between you two, and I’d like to see somethin’ work out for us. I’m about to have a _baby_. Judith is a miracle in this kind of world. I’m terrified of bringin’ this one up—dunno how you did it.”

Rick smiled warmly. “Simple. I had plenty of family. You guys are a big part of the reason she’s doin’ as well as she is right now. You can count on us, okay?”

“I know.” Maggie stood up, and Rick followed suit. The two came together in a quick hug, and when they pulled away, Maggie was smiling that same confident smile of hers. Rick knew she was being genuine with her trust in him. “Just keep me posted, alright? I’ll send Jesus out a time or two so you can let him know what’s goin’ on every now and then.”

“Sounds good.” Rick nodded, and as he started back out the doorway, he turned to face her once more. “And Maggie?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.” He nodded his head toward her. “You have no idea how much tellin’ you about that means to me.”

“Of course, Rick.” She smiled back. “Anytime, I know you’d do the same for me.”

There was still a sensation of guilt, but Rick felt better now that he’d come clean, and in the end, he had given Maggie permission to tell the others. Everyone deserved to know.

By the time he returned to Negan’s side, Negan looked plenty ready to go. He was wearing that casual smirk of his, but he was pacing around impatiently. Every now and then, he’d give Lucille a rough twirl, and his boots scuffed against the dirt paths of the Hilltop Colony as he waited around. When Rick finally reached him, he broke out into a grin.

“About damn time you got done reuniting with your sister from another mister.” Negan teased, and something about the words warmed Rick up all over. He couldn’t stop the smile forming on his lips.

“…It’s been a long time since I talked to her.” Rick said, shrugging.

“Well, I’ve been waiting a long time, too.” Negan responded. “Standing here, itching to see that sweet face again…”

The words shocked Rick more than just a little, because he had honestly never expected Negan to say something like that to him in public. And yet, here they were, standing next to a truck in the driveway of the Hilltop Colony, in front of Saviors and Hilltop residents alike, and Negan was talking to Rick like he knew they were a thing.

His actions were even more surprising. He swept in close, met Rick’s eyes for a second, and then tipped his head down and leaned in for the gentlest, softest kiss Rick had ever recalled getting from him. It melted him straight through the bones and like warm putty, he molded right into the advance, bringing a hand up to touch the side of Negan’s face.

When he pulled away, Rick’s mind felt as if it were operating in hyperdrive, but also in slow motion. Negan was just grinning at him, his eyes half-lidded, and Rick found he couldn’t process any of what had just happened.

“I’ve been fucking waiting to do that to you since the last night I saw you.”

Rick’s chest swelled up hearing that. Bubbles like indigestion fizzled in his stomach, and his legs felt weak. He didn’t feel like himself, but he kind of liked it.

He was useless right now. Useless and infatuated and such a damned mess.

“I missed you, too.” Rick finally managed.

“Come to my place.” Negan added. “We’ll make it a date night, for just you and me.”

And Rick, weakened by optimism from Maggie’s response to his confession and the mind-numbing realization that Negan’s attraction to him might not have been solely physical, could only manage a breathy “…Okay.” He was a little grateful for how Negan’s arm slid around his shoulders, and briefly unaware of the rest of the people surrounding them, as he ambled hopelessly back to the truck with Negan’s help.

By now, Rick was plenty aware of the wife situation with Negan back at the Sanctuary. Being so hung up on how strictly physical their relationship had been so far, Rick had never given himself a chance to be jealous. They hadn’t been exclusive, after all.

But in the truck on the way to Negan’s not-so-humble abode, Rick found himself thinking about it a lot more. What did they do now? In the most literal interpretation, taking Rick out on a date meant they were, well, dating, right? Fuck…did that kind of process even apply nowadays?

Was it sad for Rick to hope for a yes?

But what happened with the wives? Rick almost felt as if it would be unfair to ask Negan to do away with them in the event of a relationship with him, but at the same time…

And then Rick’s train of thought took an abrupt turn that he could have never expected. He found himself imagining that maybe it wasn’t so bad. That as long as Negan gave Rick plenty of those gentle kisses, smiled at him the way he did, and continued to fuck him straight out of his mind like he seemed to be so good at doing, he could live with being one of many. And selfishly, he mentally observed that a large amount of Negan’s recent time had been dedicated to him lately. They met up far more often than they should have, sometimes four or five times a week. And that wasn’t counting runs together.

But, as Negan palmed at Rick’s chest beneath his shirt in the back seat of the truck, Rick made the decision that he would just have to cross that bridge later. He had a whole night to find the time to ask questions, but just a few dozen miles of Negan teasing him in the back seat of a truck.

So for now, he melted into that exploring hand and the hot, wet tongue on his neck and jaw and ear, his own fingers doing their curious little exploration of the waistband and crotch of Negan’s pants. God, Negan’s whispered dirty talk could finish him off by itself…

Rick made a mental note to apologize later to the driver.

The end result of the little teasing session was a mad dash to the nearest unoccupied room—a closet just past the main hall—where heavy petting quickly evolved into rough, sweaty, messy fucking. Rick earned himself bruises on his arms, neck, back, and shoulders from fumbling with the shelves he was struggling desperately to brace himself against.

Not that he minded. He’d taken a beating in far worse ways, and the wobbly-legged post-coital attempt to walk back out of that closet was worth the glances, especially when Negan wasn’t doing too much better right next to him. By the time they made it back to Negan’s room, they were spent and laughing loudly. They took a seat on the couch and, as if they had been exclusive for a long time now, Negan pulled Rick right up against his side and threw an arm over his shoulders.

“So, what do you want to do for our date?” Negan asked, and Rick could hear the smile in his voice.

This was crazy. And for some reason, the time when Rick was wrapped up in Negan’s embrace, surrounded by the pleasantly warm smell of his leather jacket and the softness of the larger man’s couch, was when his mind finally decided to acknowledge such a fact. In reality, Rick had done a lot of dwelling on his dealings with Negan, but wanting sex from a man who had been long-considered the enemy and wanting emotionally intimate time with him were two totally different things.

For the moment, it didn’t matter that Negan had started going easy on those under his wing, or that there was a good possibility that Rick could persuade the man to agree with a possible trade ring between communities. All that rung out in Rick’s mind was the fact that he had at one point despised Negan, and that now, the man was on his mind on the daily.

But honestly, if Maggie was willing to trust Rick on this, he was willing to trust himself on it. Or at least, give it a chance.

“This place is huge.” Rick answered, sliding down to rest his head in Negan’s lap. His gaze was focused not on Negan, but up at the ceiling beyond him. “There’s gotta be somethin’ to do here.”

“No shit?” Negan retorted sarcastically. “Of course there’s stuff to do here. But I’m not asking you _if_ you want to do stuff. I’m asking you _what_ stuff you want to do. This place is a fucking paradise. You name it, we got it.”

Rick, thinking he was being facetious and entertaining, quirked his lips up into a grin. “…That mean you can come up with anything here?”

“Anything.” Negan smirked confidently.

“Whatever I want.” Rick’s eyes shifted from the ceiling to Negan’s darker ones.

“What the fuck did I just say, Rick?” Negan raised both eyebrows. “You don’t think I can give you anything you want?”

Rick just grinned.

**\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---**

Now, he most certainly was _not_ grinning.

Perhaps, given the time, Rick might have come up with something a little more impossible in the zombie apocalypse, but with Negan staring him down the way he’d been doing so, the quickest thing Rick had been able to come up with was bungee jumping. And in his mind, bungee jumping seemed awfully impossible in times like this.

But now, they were about to go bungee jumping.

Rick knew he should have thought more deeply about this. Negan and his Saviors had been collecting from people for a while, now, and Negan was a monumental shit when it came to the things he wanted to take. If he saw something he liked—it didn’t have to be food or toilet paper—he was going to take it. And apparently, he’d gotten his hands on a damned set of bungee cords and all the fixings to it, because here they were, on a bridge overlooking a river, getting ready to bungee jump over it.

And of course, Negan was going to make Rick go first.

“What the hell?” Rick complained as one of Negan’s men, someone who apparently knew how to conduct a bungee jump, strapped him in. “It’s your stuff, why aren’t you goin’ first?”

Negan shrugged. “You made the suggestion. Maybe next time, you’ll reconsider trying to be a fucking wiseass.”

“You’re punishin’ me with a bungee jump.” Rick deadpanned. “This is supposed to be a date, not a court hearing.”

“Just get ready to jump.” Negan responded. “And have a good time while you’re at it.”

“People _die_ doin’ this.” Rick tried. “What if the cords snap?”

“Then I know better than to use it after you’re done.”

“ _Negan._ ” Rick narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, come on.” Negan moved in close, and when Rick noticed that the guy strapping him in seemed to be backing away, he momentarily feared that Negan was going to push him over the edge. Thankfully, that wasn’t the case. Instead, he stole another kiss, and then tipped his head to speak directly into Rick’s ear. “Whether you love this or hate it, I’m gonna do it after you. That’s your way of getting back at me. And if that’s not good enough, I’ll make it up to you later. You’re gonna do great, and you’re not gonna die.”

It was enough reassurance for Rick, and when Negan finally pulled away, he followed the instructions he’d been given before he’d started arguing with Negan.

Initially, he did feel like he was dying. Falling didn’t feel like going down a rollercoaster drop being pulled down rapidly by an elevator. It was so much stronger in such a profound way that Rick truly found himself accepting that if he did die here, it’d be okay. He fell freely, his form a tiny cell in an endless sea of the air around him. His heart was in his chest and then his stomach and then his throat.

And then, he was bouncing back up. His heart leapt all over again, and his eyes fell shut. He came up grinning, and when he started to fall again, he let out a loud, excited cheer.

Rick had spent the past several years fighting walkers and building defenses and deciding whether or not to trust people. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined he’d be able to do something this exciting ever again. But here he was, having a blast, cheering as if he were at an amusement park. He wanted to go again, long before he was even done.

But it was worth it to give Negan the next turn, because the larger man screamed like a colicky baby all the way down, and back up again, and back down again. And he took Rick’s teasing afterward in complete stride. By the time the daytime hours had wound down into evening ones and the two were making their way back through the Sanctuary’s gate, Rick had already informed Negan that maybe he should pick the date next time, and Negan had agreed without so much as a tiny complaint.

And he had also decided that he’d had enough excitement for one day and it was time for dinner and an intense cuddling session. Rick, who had had his fun, gave no protest to the idea, and soon, they found themselves sitting on Negan’s couch all over again, this time chewing away at sandwiches and chugging on water and homemade juice.

The meal was sobering, and brought Rick down from the intense high their accidental bungee jumping date had given him. He recalled his conversation with Maggie, and also one he’d had with Carl. And even the question as to what was going on between himself and Negan at this point. This was probably the best opportunity he had to bring all of this up.

So once he finished his sandwich, Rick took a swig of his juice and then sat back, clearing his throat.

“…So, I gotta ask.” He started, and when Negan looked at him out of the corner of his eye, Rick took that as his cue to keep going. “What is this? Us?”

Negan’s expression didn’t change as he swallowed a bite of his meal. “…The fuck do you think it means? What are people typically doing when they go on dates, Rick?”

“No, I know.” Rick shook his head. “But up until today, we were just…”

“Fucking.” Negan finished.

“…Yeah.” Rick agreed. He dragged his fingers through his hair, and then scratched at the bridge of his nose with his thumb. “Look…today, I talked to Maggie about us.”

Negan cocked an eyebrow, but Rick appreciated when he didn’t outright say anything.

“I told her what we’ve been doin’, and that you’ve stopped collectin’ from Alexandria. We’ve all noticed you’re not takin’ as much from Hilltop, too.”

After Negan finished his sandwich, he moved to lean back as well, spreading his arms out over the top of the couch. “…I’m just going to take a wild fucking guess here and assume she thinks us screwing has something to do with my collections changing.”

“…I think so.” Rick admitted. “I mean…I think a lot of my people do. I wonder, myself.”

For a moment, Rick feared what was going to happen next. Negan’s lips twisted deeply into a scowl, and he almost looked as if he was on the verge of an outburst, but after a few seconds, he relented and all the irritation in his expression evaporated.

“You’re afraid that if you stop sleeping with me, I’m going to go back to the way things were before.” He guessed aloud, putting the words out there more clearly than Rick had been able to manage. He was thankful for how perceptive and intelligent Negan was. The man was a genius, honestly. It was part of what made him so dangerous.

Rick just nodded. He didn’t have the heart to say anything else.

“I don’t like it, but I get it, Rick. You got a damn good reason to be paranoid.” Negan voiced, and despite the relief his words brought, Rick gnawed at his lip. He never knew what to expect from this guy. “We didn’t start on good terms, and whatever the fuck happens from here isn’t going to do away with any of that. We got shit to work through, and we got shit to get over. But you can trust me when I say that my dick in your admittedly delicious ass is not conditional to what I’m doing with the people under my command, or the other way around.”

Rick’s shoulders slumped, and he made zero effort to conceal the liberation he felt hearing what Negan had to say. He waited for the larger man to continue, sensing that he wasn’t done.

He was right. “Neither is any emotional attachment I have to you…which, by the way, I do have.” Negan seemed surprisingly prepared for this conversation. Rick wondered if he’d been thinking about it as much as the Alexandria leader himself had. “I won’t bullshit you and act like what’s been going on between us isn’t a contributing factor for my decision, but it’d be a serious fucking dick move for me to just stop playing nice if we were to stop. So you don’t have to worry about that.”

Rick looked right into his eyes. “…Thank you. I mean that.”

“Sure thing, baby.” Negan cooed, and Rick melted a little all over again. “But now, I gotta ask. What all did you tell Maggie?”

Rick shrugged. “It only felt right to tell her what was goin’ on. I just let her know that you and I had been sleepin’ together, and everything else, she figured out by herself.”

“…Everything else?” Negan repeated. “Like what?”

Rick sighed. “C’mon, Negan. You’re not really gonna make me say it, are you?”

“Considering I’m still trying to figure out what it is, yeah. I am.” Negan retorted.

Gritting his teeth, Rick willed himself to try and come clean. It wasn’t so much the confession that Rick was afraid of coming out with. It was Negan’s reaction that freaked him out. And honestly, just a little bit of it was also caused by a nagging fear that Rick’s words would feed his ego. Negan could be petty, and Rick didn’t care to have feelings he couldn’t help held over his head.

Despite that, he wasn’t going to lie, and if he didn’t say anything, Negan wasn’t going to leave him alone about it, so he just bucked up and _did_ it.

“She told me I was fallin’ for you.” How odd those words sounded coming from Rick’s mouth. They almost felt childish, because he had dwelled and concerned himself over them for so damned long. But they were true, and they felt truer the longer he let them sink in.

When Rick met Negan’s eyes again, he was surprised not to be looking at a self-satisfied smirk. “ _Are_ you?”

“…I think so, yeah.” Rick looked away and crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

The next few moments happened so slowly and at the same time, it felt as if they were moving by too fast. Negan was kissing Rick again, with that same gentle affection he’d displayed at Hilltop. And just like before, Rick’s brain went into overdrive and he responded the best he could, with staggering touches and mirrored kisses. He found himself swallowed up by the warmth of Negan’s body as the larger man urged him to lie down on the couch, and soon, he was melting again. Melting right into Negan. The more contact, the better. Mouths against mouths, clothed hips rocking together, panting breaths hot on skin and fingers wrapped around clothing.

It didn’t stop there. Negan never outright confirmed that he and Rick were in a relationship, but he definitely showed it physically. He kissed him publicly, made sexual comments whenever he felt like it, and had even gone so far as to curl his fingers around Rick’s once or twice rather than throwing an arm over his shoulders or around his back.

He treated Rick well. When Rick looked tired, he asked if he’d slept the previous night. If Rick was sick, he made damn sure he got the medications he needed. And when Rick finally brought up this trade agreement, he was so rapidly compliant that Rick actually suspected he was being sarcastic.

But he wasn’t. Months went by, and trades were arranged. A little bit of everything went around everywhere. People got along. Not everyone was happy with Rick’s relationship with Negan, but none of them bothered to protest it. Some tried to be amiable with Negan, and others just avoided him and conflict altogether. Rick spent nights at the Sanctuary, and Negan spent nights at Alexandria. They embarked on runs together.

Everything was going so well that Rick hadn’t been ready for it all to be ripped out from under him.

It started when Negan didn’t show up for an important meeting. With Ezekiel, Gregory, and and Rick gathered there, Negan’s presence was also necessary. It was a gathering of leaders, and a discussion of futures. But in Negan’s place came Simon. A strangely less cheery Simon. He was starkly different from the relentlessly sarcastic man who never seemed to stop smiling. He didn’t want to be here.

“Where’s Negan?” Rick had asked, and Simon had shrugged.

“He’s got a bug. Couldn’t make it. Told me to take notes for him.”

No surprise that Rick couldn’t overlook that matter. Soon enough, he found himself at the Sanctuary with Simon, hammering away at Negan’s door with a fisted hand. When no one answered, he just wrenched the door open. Rick stormed in, with an apologetic Simon right behind him.

“Sorry, boss—he insisted.”

“It’s fine.” Negan’s voice grumbled, and damn, he really did sound sick.

And he _looked_ sick. His skin was visibly pale, his eyes dark and exhausted. He sat on his couch, leaning back with his forearm over his forehead, and his posture the very example of defeat. Next to him was a trash can, though Rick observed no contents inside.

“Don’t get too close.” Negan teased as Simon slipped back out of the room. “Definitely don’t want you catching this shit.”

Rick frowned. “How long have you been sick?”

“This is day one.” Negan answered with a shrug. “Feel like I could hurl any minute.”

“I can help you get to the infirmary.” Rick offered, but Negan shook his head.

“It’s fine. It’ll pass.”

As Negan finally doubled over and vomited into the trash can, Rick decided he wasn’t leaving for the night. He sought out what medicine he could find to accommodate the fever and nausea, and pushed for Negan to eat and drink when he could. The last time he recalled caring this intently for someone had been before the world had ended. Even at the prison, he had been too busy doing other things to attend to the sick. So right now, this was kind of surreal.

It was even more so because of just how much like a different person Negan looked in this state. He didn’t care to talk much, and the exhaustion truly was getting the better of him, because all he did was sleep once he could do so without vomiting.

But in the morning, Negan was adamant in demanding that Rick leave. He swore until his voice went hoarse (which didn’t take much) that just as soon as his illness cleared up, he’d be over to visit, made a few weak attempts at an innuendo, and beckoned Rick away.

In the truck with Simon, Rick wrung at his hands nervously. He and Simon had reached friendly terms, though they didn’t spend a whole lot of their time exchanging stories or anything like that. So it really wasn’t a big shocker that neither of them seemed to be making a move to talk. The drive to Alexandria would be a long one, but Rick could stomach it. What he couldn’t stomach was not knowing how Negan was feeling, or how he would be feeling later on in the night. The illness at the prison had taken lives, and while the Sanctuary was probably better stocked than the prison had been, it was still a scary thought.

Rick hadn’t known Negan as long as he’d known Lori, but the feelings were still there. He’d gone and gotten himself hopelessly infatuated with the man in record time. He wasn’t ready for the guy to go and get himself sick and dead.

“I wish you’d turn the car around.” Rick tried, turning his gaze to Simon. The older man glanced at Rick, genuinely seeming to contemplate his words, before he shook his head.

“No can do.” Simon replied gruffly.

“…Please.” Rick’s stare remained fixed on the other man’s face. “He’s not doin’ okay.”

“Sorry.” Simon shook his head. “I’m just following orders. Don’t take it personally.”

“I’m not, I know. I understand.” Rick sighed. “It’s just…I have experience with this. Someone got sick at one of my old camps. It spread around, and people died. I can help prevent that.”

“No.” Simon answered stubbornly. “You can’t.”

“Just turn around.” Rick grumbled.

“No.”

“Come on.” Rick argued. “This is stupid.”

“I said ‘no’.”

“Simon.”

Suddenly, the car came to a violent stop, and it took after Rick lurched forward and nearly smashed his face into the dashboard to realize that it had been because Simon had slammed on the brakes. He shot the other man a sharp glare.

“He got _bit_ , Rick.”

After that, it was like the world ended. Rick’s heart was in his throat and his body almost felt as if it were floating. Like he was falling down, down into a deep pit. The world grew dark around him, and just as he realized the car was actually plummeting, everything went black.

**\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---**

Rick opened his eyes to bright sunlight and the smell of lake water. Bugs could be heard chirping around him, right along with the distant serenade of birds. The surface beneath Rick’s body was hard, but he could tell he was at least lying on a blanket.

He felt good. Well-rested. Energized. Happy. Okay.

“About time you woke up.” Negan’s voice was warm and heavy like honey next to him. Rick turned his head to meet those hazel eyes. They looked brighter in the intense sunlight. Negan sported his white undershirt and gray pants, but nothing else. His smile bared pearly white teeth.

“Where are we?” Rick wondered aloud.

“Still out on the lake.” Negan shrugged. “Fuck, you must’ve been sleeping pretty good. Guess I wore you out, huh?”

It was strange, how Rick remembered absolutely nothing about getting onto this boat. No, the only thing he knew was that he was here now and he and Negan had apparently come out here all alone for a little time to themselves. He felt detached and confused, but at the same time, right at home.

So he smiled and played it off. “…Yeah, you must have.” He turned his gaze up to the sky and took in a breath of the crisp, fresh lake air. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

“It’s already there, babe.” Negan scoffed.

“You’re an ass.” Rick rolled his eyes.

He felt Negan’s hand move to rest atop his, and their fingers entertwined together effortlessly, like they belonged that way forever. Rick shamelessly thought so.

“Rick.” Negan’s voice still held that comforting warmth to it, but his voice was serious as he spoke up again. “I’m sorry I killed those friends of yours. And don’t tell me it’s okay, because it’s fucking not.”

“I know.” Rick answered simply. “I’ll never forgive that. But thank you anyway.”

“It’s just…unfortunate, that’s all.” Negan continued amidst an exhale. “I mean, that that had to be how we met. I did what I had to do and I don’t regret it, but of all the fucking people, I wish it hadn’t been you I’d hurt that way.”

Rick didn’t know what to say. He just watched Negan as the man continued to travel along his train of thought.

“I guess I just got used to doing things that way. Doesn’t make shit any better realizing it. Death just…it surrounds us here. People die, and in the most fucked up of ways. I tried to make it okay by justifying that people had to get used to losing people, because I was bitter…because I had to.”

“Negan.” Rick shook his head. “Really, it’s in the past. Why are we talkin’ about this?”

“Because you’re special.” Negan answered. “And you’re strong, and you need to _keep_ being strong.”

“…Negan.” Rick frowned. “Why now?”

“It’s just…” Negan sighed. “It’s just important. You can’t lose yourself when you lose someone you care about. You have to be ready for anything in today’s world.”

_“He got bit.”_

Before Rick could even so much as make the recollection of those words, everything was going black again.

_He got bit, Rick.”_

**\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---**

With a gasp, Rick snapped awake. His head hurt, and his shoulder ached. He smelled blood and dirt, and was drenched with what he was starting to realize was rainwater.

He was in a ditch, lying atop a blanket. Sitting up made him dizzy, but he did it anyway. With some effort, he pushed himself up onto his shaky legs and climbed out of the steep trench on the side of the road.

Directly in front of him was a gaping hole. Mud and concrete and dirt and just…blackness. A sinkhole. Peering down into it, Rick saw that a story or so down was the car he and Simon had been driving in. Jesus…

“…Rick?”

The voice was raspy at best, but it was there, and Rick found himself wheeling around to acknowledge it and sprinting toward it without even looking. He threw his arms around Negan’s shoulders, but recoiled quickly when the man’s strength nearly gave out in response to the weight.

When Rick pulled back, he felt dizzy all over again. Negan’s skin was a dull grayish green, pallid, and his eyes were starting to turn yellow outside of the irises.

Fear gave way to anger, and without thinking, Rick shoved Negan backward. He watched how pitifully the larger man’s legs gave out and he collapsed from the gesture, just barely able to hold himself up into a sitting position.

“Why didn’t you _tell_ me!?” Rick snarled.

He didn’t have to clarify. Rick was aware that Negan knew damn well what he was angry about.

For Negan, even shaking his head seemed weak and pathetic. Rick softened just slightly when he saw just how much Negan was putting into it.

“Why the fuck do you think?” Negan said, getting back onto his own weakened legs. “You’d have stuck around and watched me die. I was trying to make it quick and painless.”

“You don’t get to choose how I handle it!” Rick seethed. “How do you think I’d have felt!? Not even gettin’ to say goodbye? That’s a _shit_ move, Negan.”

“Well, excuse the fuck out of me.” Negan bit back. “But you need to sit down before you make yourself pass out.”

Rick narrowed his eyes. “You’re one to talk.”

“No, I’m serious.” Negan persisted. “You were in that thing when it hit the bottom of that sinkhole. You could be all fucked up. We’re gonna get you checked out.”

Rick didn’t want to go anywhere. He wanted to stay right here, with Negan. To have a chance to process everything that had happened. To just talk and be together. He wanted to prolong his time with Negan as much as possible. While a very tiny part of him understood why Negan had sent him away like he had, Rick didn’t want it that way. He’d take all the time he could get. He hadn’t been afforded that opportunity with Lori, after all, and after her death, he had felt haunted by her for so long.

“Who’s we?” Rick asked.

Negan nodded behind him, where Dwight and Simon could be seen. Simon’s forearm was wrapped tightly up with boards and medical tape, and blood coursed down the side of his head. Next to him, Dwight seemed to look concerned for everyone involved. He looked lost, as if he were trying to decide who he needed to care for first.

“Simon radioed for help when the car fell.” Negan finally answered. “I had Dwight drive like a bat outta hell to get here. Carson should be close behind—Arat’s driving the other vehicle. He’ll look you two over and then we’ll get you back home.”

Rick scowled. “I’m fine, Negan.”

“…No, you’re not.” Negan disagreed. “You’re not until the doctor says you are.”

“I’m not dying.” Rick growled back, emotion clear in his voice. “You are.”

“I know.” When Rick looked up at Negan to process those words, he was met with that same warm smile from his dream…from the lake. Negan had already accepted what was going to happen to him. He had from the very instant he’d decided to distance himself from Rick.

And something about seeing him that way broke Rick’s heart. He dropped down to the ground on his ass, resting his forearms on his knees, and tipped his head down while the emotion washed over him. He didn’t care who was surrounding him. He just cried.

He cried for what felt like forever, but was probably only a couple of minutes, and Negan soon joined him on the ground, sliding an arm around him. Rick could hear him apologizing, but he didn’t care. It didn’t make him stay alive. It didn’t bring him back from the dead.

When Doctor Carson arrived, he focused on Simon first, as his head was still bleeding. Rick and Negan took a spot against a tree a ways out from the road. Dwight kept patrol just in case the noise had drawn any walkers.

Negan looked worse even with just an hour or so having passed by. His voice was getting weaker, and his gestures more labored. Leaning against the tree was likely becoming the only thing keeping him upright. Rick’s stomach and heart ached just seeing him that way.

“…How’d you get bitten?” He asked, and Negan let out a breathy laugh.

“Simon, Arat, and I got surrounded the last time we left Alexandria.” Negan responded, the words slow coming out. “Whole fucking herd, and we escaped the damn things. We hid in the trailer of the truck and waited the motherfuckers out. Thought the coast was clear. When we got out and started to get back into the vehicle, one came around the corner and got my arm.” With plenty of effort, Negan shrugged his jacket off, revealing a nasty, swollen mark on his right arm. It looked as if someone had taken a chunk clean out.

“The one fucking time I didn’t wear my jacket.”

Rick wanted to punch him. That was such a stupid reason for him to die. All because he’d forgotten his jacket one day and bared his arms to the walkers. Negan was an asshole. A fucking asshole. A _dying_ asshole. An asshole Rick _loved._

Rick gritted his teeth, biting back another wave of emotion.

“…Rick.” Negan pleaded. “Please don’t cry anymore, okay? I’m so sorry.”

“I know you are.” Rick’s voice cracked. “I’m tryin’ not to. It’s just…it’s happenin’ so fast.”

“You should want it to happen this way.” Negan responded. “I spent months watching Lucille die. It’s not fucking easy. And if I’m being honest, I don’t care to suffer for as long as she had.”

Rick scowled.

“Which reminds me.” Negan reached down, withdrawing Rick’s gun from its holster. He held it out. “When the time comes. I need you to make sure I don’t turn.”

Rick wanted to argue with him. He wanted to tell him that no, he most certainly could _not_ do that. That it wasn’t right for him to be expected to. But if he wanted to do anything to make this better, it was probably going to have to be this.

Thunder rumbled above him as he accepted the weapon.

“…Thank you.”

Doctor Carson took that moment to move in on Rick. He got a few steri-strips to the head and a suggestion to watch for symptoms of a concussion. He’d need people around him, making sure he wasn’t passing out and slipping into a coma. He kind of felt like he’d earned another coma at this point.

Either way, he was alright.

But Negan wasn’t. He barely spoke at all by the time Rick had finished getting examined by the doctor. His breathing was shallow and hardly noticeable. Rick, frightened, swept back in quickly to be by his lover’s side.

“…Negan?” Rick tried, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “Negan…come on. Please talk to me.”

It took a few seconds, but there was a slow nod of the head from Negan. He brought his head up to regard Rick with eyes that looked as if they were struggling to stay open. “…I need to lie down.”

“Yeah.” Rick nodded quickly. He picked up Negan’s jacket and spread it out on the dirt next to the tree, and then helped lower him onto his back on it. “Okay, there. Are you alright?”

“…Fuck no, I’m not alright.” Negan let out a barely audible laugh. “You need to get that gun ready.”

Rick bit back the urge to protest. He took a seat next to the other man and tried as hard as he could to smile down at him.

“You look…so pathetic right now.” Negan teased, though his voice was no longer convincing of that. “Like you’re trying not to lose it right now. It’s hard…to see you that way.”

Rick shook his head. “Sorry, Negan. I know I wanted to kill you at one point, but this is all you’re gettin’ from me now.”

“Fucking hilarious.” Negan smiled, the faintest of laughs bubbling up in his chest. “Not today…not tomorrow…but you’re gonna kill me.”

Those words made Rick feel numb. He watched the life fade from Negan’s eyes, and then brought the barrel of his revolver straight to the man’s forehead. It frightened him how easily he pulled the trigger, and how he didn’t even wince when the bang erupted around them.

It was over.

It was just…over.

The rain chose then to resume its assault on those out in it.

**\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---**

The trees themselves almost look as if they’re hung over in mourning as Rick finishes his work. Negan’s grave isn’t anything too incredible, but it’s there. He’d managed to talk Simon into letting him bury Negan next to the garden he and Rick had put so much work into. And out of respect, Lucille was given a grave right next to him.

He’s gone, now. That’s it. There’s no going back.

Carl and Michonne move to place a hand on either of his shoulders.

Rick’s numb again. His body is cold, but he can’t feel it. He just wants to lie down with Negan one more time. To hear that stupid voice make some embarrassingly vulgar comment once again. One more time…that’s not too much to ask.

But apparently, it is.

He remembers his dream about the lake. About Negan telling him that he needed to be ready to let go. That this isn’t the end of the world.

And it isn’t.

Carl and Judith are still here, and Michonne has proven she’s never going to leave Rick’s side. He’s not over losing Negan, and he probably never will be. He’s still not over Lori’s death, or Hershel’s, or Beth’s. Glenn’s…

But he can’t sink into the same depression he had when Lori had died. And he knows that.

Rick swallows down some of the numbness and turns to regard his son and his best friend. Their eyes are puffy, but they’re smiling.

“Judy’s inside with Gabriel.” Carl says as he and Michonne lead Rick back toward his house. “…she gives real good hugs.”

“…Yeah.” Rick manages a smile, even though fresh tears begin to work their way from his eyes yet again. “She does.”

It hurts, but he still has so much.

He doesn’t need anything else. Not anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Stay tuned for an alternate ending, as inspired by two lovely friends from the discord chat!


End file.
